Tools of the trade

We know that Dad trained as an aircraft machinist, but he might just as well have been a carpenter or cabinetmaker, because he also mastered those skills and more. (Do you know anyone else who had his own welder, cement mixer, and metal lathe?) He was the owner that our old house at 400 St. Charles Street certainly needed. Tradesmen were never hired; Dad tackled plumbing, masonry, shingling, electrical and carpentry work himself. Add car repair and maintenance to that skill set (in the garage he designed and built himself, of course).

Woodworking would have been part of farm life, as necessity dictates. Pete Fraser was skilled enough to build grain wagons to earn extra money, and you can bet that young Murray would be right at his father's elbow, watching and learning.

Later, Dad would have learned precise woodworking skills as part of his RCAF training, since many planes, like the Avro Anson, were made largely of wood. Having earned his Leading Aircraftman credentials, a rigger like Dad at No. 6 Repair Depot, Trenton would be responsible for airframes, and the many damaged trainers would need repairs of all sorts. He also took a home building course in Britain while waiting to return home post-war. I'll bet he aced it.

An old photo in Dad's albums features the toolbox he built specifically for his hand tools. It made sense that his machinist's toolbox would be built of aircraft aluminum, and his woodworking toolbox would be made of plywood.

Dad's hand-built toolbox

I wondered when the toolbox was built. The old linoleum suggests it was built in the late 1940s, when Mom and Dad lived in their first home on Parkhill Street. The toolbox itself holds the answer:  an October 20, 1948 invoice from MacDonald Bros. Aircraft listing the materials needed to build it: one 4x8 ft. sheet of 3/8" plywood, nails, two clasps, lock, and the original leather handle. 

The Stores Dept. was well equipped, and Dad often bought materials there.

The toolbox today. Dad eventually replaced the worn-out leather handle with metal ones on each end (not shown).

Dad had a good collection of tools by 1948. His toolbox dimensions were determined by the trio of handsaws that lock into place in the hinged front.

Interior fittings for specific tools hold them securely in place.

Canvas rolls keep chisels and files safely stowed. Mom sewed the light one, I suspect. The blue one is too rough to be her work. Perhaps it's from Trenton. Mom made pockets like this for Dad's wrenches, too, but that's another tool collection.

Not surprisingly, Dad loved tools, the more specialized, the better. I'm not sure if that's what really drove his woodworking hobby, but he certainly was productive. 

Cabinetmaking is a specific trade that requires a fine eye, a careful, patient hand, and much precision. Dad had the attention to detail it required, and built a lot of furniture, custom designed and built to fit particular spaces. Projects ranged from medicine cabinets, tables, bookcases, to a full kitchen, as well as fences and a two-car garage. 

While Dad enjoyed this hobby, his perfectionist tendencies could make working with wood frustrating. Occasionally a "bloody hell!" would escape tight lips when a piece of wood split or did not behave. We called this the "milkshake stage" and knew a break was needed.

Dad was a fastidious cabinetmaker, but said he far preferred to work with metal, which he felt was more predictable and allowed even greater precision. 

The basement was his domain, and he spent many evenings down there. When our parents moved from St. Charles to St. James, Dad's first priority was to pack and move his workshop. In fact, he added a drill press and machinist's lathe to his new basement. 

Now, if you're a Fraser, you ought to know a thing about tools. Let's see if you can identify a few of the cabinetmaker's hand tools from Dad's collection. 

I'll start with an easy set. The three tools shown below are among Dad's oldest, and were likely his father's or grandfather's.

Old tools still do the job.

Give yourself three points if you identified a drawknife, the blade with two handles, used to shave wood. The marking gauge at right was featured in an earlier blog posting and its name explains its use. The bar is ruled in inches, the thumb screw tightens the movable fence, and a nail at the end scores the wood you are marking. It is a useful, obvious tool still used and little changed today. The hand drill in the centre was a gift to Dad on his 10th birthday, in 1929. I use it often.

The hand tools below are two of the many drills in Dad's collection, which included a regular electric drill, standing drill press, and a monstrous wall-mounted hand-cranked iron drill press. In fact, Dad's long work bench was an old drill table from MacDonald Bros. Aircraft, as evidenced by the many holes in its surface. 

The two drills below have specific names. Two points if you know them.

There is a proper tool for every job.

Kudos if you recognized a bit brace (top) and a push drill (bottom). The chuck at the end of the bit brace tightens to hold different auger bits. The round top allows you to lean into the drilling and apply pressure. You need room for flying elbows when you crank this brace.

A push drill, on the other hand, is a great tool for small holes in tight spaces. It can be used with one hand. As the name implies, you install a bit in the end and just push to operate it. The bit digs in when you push down, and then reverses to clear the sawdust. A push drill uses special "double flute" bits rather than "twist" bits and they are conveniently stored in the handle. 

Still thinking in terms of drills, can you identify this next item? It's unique, so I'll give you two points for this one. 

Hint: recall the shape of a wood screw.

Yes, this is a countersink bit. Drill a pilot hole with it, and it allows a wood screw to sit perfectly flush with the wood. (A typical machine screw, on the other hand, has a domed top that sits above the surface.)

A deal at $1.95 from Macleod's. Perhaps these didn't work too well; other bits remain in the package.

Now you're starting to think like a pro. While we're still drilling, consider the next item, for one point.

Dad engraved his valuable tools -- with his engraving tool, of course.

Hmm, it has a square shank that would fit the brace bit. It looks like it drills holes, so it's an auger bit of sorts. But what's that funny extra piece?

Well, that makes this an expansive bit. (Expensive, too, perhaps.) The little cutter attachment allows you to drill holes from 7/8 to 3" in diameter. Think doorknob holes, or finger holes for sliding cupboard doors.

The "genuine and original" Irwin expansive bit

We're on a roll. You stand a good chance of identifying the two items below. Two points.

Essential tools for cabinetmakers

Yes, that top piece looks like another bit, but what's with that strange tip? Well, think of the hole it would leave -- a nice clean cone shape, kind of like a wood screw. You're right. This is another countersink bit, which can be used atop a regular drill hole. 

The second tool? That's a nail set, a 1/32" one, to be precise. Think of finishing nails rather than screws this time. A finishing nail (unlike, say, a roofing or drywall nail), has a small head so that it is unobtrusive in cabinet work. As Dad taught me, a finishing nail also has a "grain" -- a fine seam that should be across the wood's grain to avoid splitting.

You do not want to hit a finishing nail with a hammer to make it flush with the wood, only to leave a big hammer dent. That's what the nail set is for. Carefully position the nail set over the nail to finish tapping it into the wood carefully, so that the nail head is just below the wood's surface. A little swipe of wood putty and presto, the nail is nicely hidden.

On to the next. You're starting to think like a cabinetmaker now.

One point if you know what this is.

No, it's not another bit. Yes, it is struck with a hammer. 

This is a center punch. Position it and smack it with a hammer to make a tiny hole that can precisely guide your drill and prevent it from veering off-course. Very handy if you are aligning hinges and such.

We're almost done. How this next pair is used is not as evident, so I'll assign it two  points.  

These are used as a pair.

Look closely. They screw on to something like -- a carpenter's square! These angle gauges are also called stair gauges. Set them and you can mark a series of stair tread notches in a stringer. No master carpenter would be without them.

Stair gauges make marking stringers accurate and fast.
[Source: DIY Network]

Building stairs, early 1980s.

Two more items in the cabinetmaker's arsenal. This first one explains itself, so one point.

Henry Disston & Sons of Philadelphia dates back to the mid 1800s and became the largest handsaw manufacturer in the world. 

What is this scraper used for? Well, even planed wood could have some raised grain. If you are a very fussy cabinetmaker, you would use this to scrape that down. The edge of this steel is honed very finely to leave a slight, yet sharp burr that will scrape a flat piece of wood very finely. (We'll dispense with a discussion of sandpaper.)

Lastly, one more tiny item from Dad's toolbox. It is used by cabinetmakers (and their helpers like me), but how?

No, it's not a gummy bear.

Award yourself one point if you knew it is a stub of cabinetmakers' wax. My job was to coat the threads of screws with it, so the screw would go into the wood more easily and hold tight. Cabinetmakers say that a wax toilet ring seal works really well for this and will last years and years.

There you have it -- a sampling of some of the items in Dad's 1948 toolbox. How did you do? Don't feel bad if you didn't score 14/14 -- these are unique tools.

This was only one of Dad's tool collections, of course. I was honored that Dad wanted me to have the toolbox. I keep it tucked behind my couch, and it brings back plenty of memories as Dad's "helper." He was a born teacher and I learned a lot, including where each and every tool belonged.

Tightening spokes on the tandem bike Dad built, St. Charles, 1970. The toolbox is on the left side of the MacDonald Bros. workbench behind him. I asked Karen to offer Dad a nut so he'd look up for the photo.

Before heading to the basement, Dad would change into his shop clothes (often an old Harris tweed sports jacket) and announce, "I need a kid." I was happy to keep him company and fetch tools.

I suspect Mom appreciated having a helper around for safety's sake. Dad was working in the garage alone one time when the Cadillac's heavy hood fell on his finger. Luckily, he could still reach the hood release with his other hand to free himself. 

Dad taking a break in the St. Charles kitchen, 1972. His machinist's toolbox is just visible on the floor behind him.

And too bad Grandpa Fred Stevens isn't around to give us a tour of his toolbox, below. It was donated to the Dufferin Historical Museum in Carman by Uncle Charlie and his son Fred, both master carpenters in their own right. The toolbox contains many specialized and mysterious tools I would be hard-pressed to identify.

Like Dad, I suspect Grandpa Stevens was a jack of all trades. Too bad they never met.

Fred Stevens' toolbox at the Dufferin Historical Museum.
[Photo courtesy Ina Bramadat]

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